By STEVIE WEBER
Staff Writer
The sun beat down, yet there was no rhythm. Not even warmth. It was late, though one could possibly argue it was too early. They couldn’t care less. Adrift towards a plane of comfort they moved, questions rumbling out into empty space that someone might have an answer to. Houses to either side of Them, though they lacked individuality. All built with the same structure and function in mind. The same. Colorless. Bland. It was quite boring, really. Their hill was in sight. Their relief, their rapture. Soon, they would be free. Free of manipulation or being manipulated. They weren’t sure which thought coursed more electricity through their limitless frame. Already they began orchestrating the tune of the void. If there was even one to begin with. Perhaps it would be something heavy, with a long awaited crescendo. Would they have the patience for that? Fate couldn’t act fast enough.
finally